Figure Drawing
by Nuclear Eggs
Summary: Luka, an aimless student, first saw Miku in a magazine. For most, that would have been the end. For Luka, it was merely the prologue. Miku/Luka, M for a reason.


Luka first saw Miku in a magazine.

That wasn't special in and of itself - Miku was in many magazines nowadays as Japan's beloved idol. However, when Luka first saw her, it was before all that; before the fame, before the dramas, before the chart-topping songs, before her meteoric rise to stardom.

Back then, Miku was nameless.

Luka had been seventeen then, walking back home with her friends. They stopped at a convenience store on the way back and were flipping through fashion magazines. Now, Luka always had an appreciative eye for fashion and attentively kept up with the trends. She didn't really care about the models - all that mattered to her were the clothes. The models were just that - models. People who wore the clothes and made them look good, but nothing more.

All that changed when Luka turned to page ninety-five. It was a small picture, but it was there and Luka's gaze zoomed in on it like a magnet. It was a simple photo of a girl, slightly younger than her, dressed in a schoolgirl-like sweater vest, skirt, knee-high socks. If it had been anyone else, Luka would hardly have given it a second glance, but something about the girl kept her from looking away. There was something about her hair, long and teal in tangled twin-tails, and her startlingly blue eyes, aimed somewhere off-camera as if contemplating an object far away.

Luka stared for a long time, chills racing up and down her spine. She turned the page and there the girl was again, this time a full-page spread, the background white, the girl herself leaning against a wall, gaze aimed up at the ceiling. Her hair was undone and fell about her slender shoulders in waves. She was wearing a woolen scarf, a black peacoat, hands casually stuck in the pockets, the knee of one leg bent, the other straight. Her calves were slender and Luka could not stop looking at them.

Before she knew it, she had bought the magazine. Before she knew it, she was back home, flipping through the magazine in search of more pictures of the girl. And there were. Not very big ones - there was only one full page spread of only her - but it was enough.

Flash-forward a year. Luka was in senior year of high school, assiduously studying for her entrance exams. The magazine was now dog-eared and worn. The girl haunted her dreams, a perfect picture memory whenever Luka closed her eyes.

"Did you hear about Hatsune Miku?" Lily asked one night.

Luka blinked. The name held no meaning to her. "No. Who is she?" She bent her head back down towards her book. "Someone from our school? A celebrity?"

"She's a new pop singer," said Lily. "But get this, she's actually _good."_

Luka snorted. "Seriously? All of that is autotuned crap."

"Luka!" Lily groaned. "Come on. Bear with me here. She's great. I'll play it for you."

Before Luka could protest, music filled the air. Luka paused. There was a simplicity about it, a sort of purity not often found in today's pop hits. It was a simple song about first love, a typical enough subject, but there was a note of melancholy in this Miku's voice that struck a chord deep in Luka's heart.

She had to admit it. This Hatsune Miku was _good._

As the song ended, Lily grinned at Luka. "See? Told you, didn't I? She's pretty good."

"She's not awful," Luka allowed as she returned to her book.

"Cut her some slack, it's her first single," Lily laughed. She started to put her phone away, but out of the corner of her eye, on the screen, still lit, Luka saw her - the girl from the fashion magazine, the deep blue eyes and tumbling teal hair.

"Wait!" Luka shouted before knowing she did, and Lily froze. It took a while for Luka to realize what had just happened, and when she did, her face heated up. "Um...I mean...can I see your phone?"

"Uh...what do you want with it?" asked Lily, holding the phone away.

"Who's that girl? That picture?"

Lily blinked. "Huh? Oh," Lily flicked her phone back on. Luka's breath caught in her throat - there the girl was, staring straight out from what seemed like an album cover. "That's Miku. It's the cover to her first single. Seriously, you need to get your head out of books sometimes."

"That's Miku?" Luka choked out.

"Yeah...oh," a mischievous grin spread on Lily's face. "She's pretty cute, isn't she?"

Luka was too dazed to evade the question. "She's...cute."

Lily laughed. "A great singer _and_ a good looker! Seriously, she won the genetic lottery with that combo."

"Yeah," Luka murmured. "Yeah. She did."

-o-o-o-

From that day on, it became increasingly difficult to avoid seeing Miku. The girl was everywhere. Radios were enamored with her. Giant advertisements featuring her plastered themselves on walls and on television screens. She acted in dramas too, corny romantic comedies set in high schools, where she would be paired with whoever the lead male actor was these days - Shion Kaito, Kagamine Len, so on and so forth.

Luka couldn't quite bring herself to watch those. Ridiculous as it was, the sight of Miku being with any of those guys made her gut churn. But of course, that was stupid - she didn't even _know_ Miku, Miku was someone who lived in a different world. She was an idol, and Luka...well...Luka was just an ordinary college student.

Dumb as it was, immature as it was, Luka still had that old fashion magazine, a remnant of the time before Miku became famous. Of course, nowadays Miku was in far more glamorous photoshoots, but there was still something about the simplicity of the original photos that stuck with Luka. Something about the cast of Miku's expression, her mysterious, far-away gaze, her tangled hair. The idol was bright and cheery, everyone's best friend. The girl in the photos, however...she wasn't the idol. She was someone else. Someone different.

But that was all irrelevant to Luka's life. She wasn't one of those otaku who stalked idols and collected pictures of them. She was a student, heavily undecided as to what she wanted to major in, taking an amalgamation of courses that would stump any adviser. Geology rubbed elbows with Figure Drawing, Music Theory sat nervously next to Intro to Programming. Luka had no particular preference for anything, and so she drifted through classes. There was something missing, some spark or passion that Luka was just unable to tap, and it frustrated her immensely. It was always _just_ there, _just_ out of reach...Luka felt as though if she could just reach out and grab it...

But at the moment, she couldn't. It was like seeing something out of the corner of one's eye and always being unable to catch it.

She was two weeks into the semester and sitting in Figure Drawing when it happened. The class was boring her out of her mind - for the past few classes, all they drew were their own hands - and Luka could swear that if she had to draw yet another study on her hands she would drop the class right away, consequences be damned.

"Class," said the teacher, "today we will have a very special guest modeling for us."

Whatever else she said was lost in the clamor of the students when _the_ Hatsune Miku walked into the room, as pristine and as perfect as one would expect an idol to be. She radiated presence, her shoulders straight and slim. She was dressed simply, a collared, sleeveless blouse, a teal tie, a black ruffled skirt, black stockings pulled up just so, exposing a strip of pale skin before the skirt hid the rest.

Luka was transfixed. Her breath was caught somewhere between her throat and her mouth. Her fingers were numb, shaking. She couldn't believe it; _Miku_ was here? Why? _How?_ Why would an idol deign to spend her time in a figure modeling class at some university?

Miku smiled to the class, bathing them with a sunny grin. "It's nice to meet you all!" she chirped, bowing quickly before walking over to the center of the room, where there were several lamps and a chair set up.

The teacher went on to talk about how in the interests of privacy and in not getting his head sued off, Miku would be posing clothed, but no one really paid much attention. Having Miku here was enough. Miku moved with the poise and accuracy of an experienced model and it was two minutes in when Luka realized that, shit, she actually had to _draw_ Miku, and at once she set her pencil down to paper and got to work.

Under the light of the lamp, Miku's skin, perfectly maintained, looked pink and warm. She wasn't looking at Luka - that would've been too much to ask for - her gaze fixed somewhere far away. Her hair was a little mussed, probably from the ride here, but it was still perfect, every stray strand in place as though she had planned it herself. With one leg up, her arms hugging it towards her, the other extended, she looked so much like the model she was two years ago, when Luka was seventeen.

_You don't even know her,_ Luka thought to herself as she sketched. _She doesn't even know_ _you_.

The instructor called for Miku to change position, and she did so, shifting to another angle, her movements deliberate and slow. Just watching her move made chills go down Luka's spine. Luka looked down to turn the page and found that she had filled up an entire page of Miku - her delicate wrists, the gentle curve of her neck.

Luka chewed her lip, not wanting to think about that too much, and turned the page. The sketches practically flowed from her pencil, and, shit, Miku wasn't even doing anything _special,_ she was just _sitting there,_ but Luka could feel a subtle pool of heat in her body and isn't that just perfect. Still, she kept drawing. She would be damned if she let an opportunity like this go to waste, and with Miku as her muse Luka was drawing more than she had ever drawn before.

When it was over, Luka had filled up nine pages of the best sketches she had ever done, and her professor nodded in appreciation as he walked past. Miku was standing in the center, looking slightly lost, but a horde of students pressed in to speak to her and at once her expression reverted back into one more suited for Japan's biggest pop idol.

Luka made sure to pack as slowly as possible. Even that was too fast for the crowd around Miku, and Luka was forced to wait for several more minutes until the last person left. The room was empty now save for the two of them, and Miku looked so tired Luka wasn't sure if talking to her now was even a good idea. Still, Miku lifted her head to look at Luka and shot her a dazzling grin, a smile that slid over her previously tired expression like a practiced mask.

"Hey," she said, smiling. "Thanks for waiting! Want me to sign something?"

"Um," said Luka. "No...I just wanted to talk."

Miku nodded and checked her watch. "I don't have much time to chat," she said, appropriately apologetic. "My manager expects me to be back soon."

"It'll be fast," Luka said. "Um..." she trailed off. Now that she was actually here and talking to Miku, she wasn't sure what to say. Words flew out of her head like escaping birds. What was she thinking? There was nothing an ordinary student like her could possibly say to an idol like Miku. Luka felt her face heat up in embarrassment, Miku still calmly standing there and looking at her inquisitively. Luka was suddenly acutely aware that to Miku, she was likely just another fan, one of many, indistinguishable from each other.

That may well be true too, Luka acknowledged to herself. Surely she had not been the only one who noticed Miku in the fashion magazine so long ago. But she felt a connection to the idol, strange as it may seem, a sort of inner pull, irresistible. Stupid or not, Luka had to at least _try_ to make conversation with her. She would never forgive herself if she didn't. It was, Luka knew, now or never.

"Don't be shy," said Miku, still smiling.

"Right," Luka stuttered, and before she could stop herself, she blurted it out. "You...you modeled for a magazine, right?"

Miku laughed. "I _model_ - present, not past - for a lot of magazines."

"No," Luka hated how much she was stuttering; she hadn't acted like this since grade school, "this was before...before you became famous. Two years ago, in _Saki."_

There it was, that dawn of recognition in Miku's eyes, and a faint blush spread on her cheeks. She ducked her head. "Oh, that? That was dumb...it wasn't really professional-"

"No!" Luka interrupted. "No, you were...you were cute. Beautiful, even. You looked different back then - not that you aren't cute now, of course," oh god, what was she _saying?_ Luka's mind entreated her to shut up, but Luka couldn't stop talking, words running all over themselves. Miku was staring at her now, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted just like how she was in the photoshoot two years ago. "When I was drawing you, I just felt so inspired, and I can't be the only one who looked at your shoots back then and got..." Luka trailed off.

"Got what?" Miku asked. There was a lingering hint of a smirk around her lips now, and the reality of what she had just said was beginning to hit Luka like a ship running into a glacier. It was time, Luka decided, to end this stupid and increasingly embarrassing story.

"Um," said Luka, weakly. "Inspired."

Miku laughed. It was a beautiful sound, a ring of a bell; Luka, unsure if she was being laughed at, just stood there. Her heart was beating rapidly, her head faintly light-headed just from being in the mere _presence_ of this girl.

"Wow, you _do_ know I was only fourteen in those, right?" Miku said as the laughter died down.

Luka hadn't done the math, and she was pretty sure that her face was on fire right now. "Oh, that's...that's great," Luka said. "I feel so much better now, thank you."

"Don't feel bad," said Miku, her smile warm and real before shifting into something more mischievous. "Well, okay. Maybe feel a little bad."

Luka laughed, feeling herself relax a little. Miku looked as though she was genuinely amused, and even though the cost of that amusement was a good chunk of Luka's dignity, Luka could do it for that smile. Then, Luka suddenly remembered the sketches in her bag, and she put it down and searched for them, speaking as she did. "I wanted to show you some of the sketches I did."

"Sure," said Miku, obligingly enough despite having seen every single students' sketches of her in the past half hour. Still, something in Luka was confident that she had beat out every single one. She wasn't the greatest artist in the world, but for some reason, simply drawing Miku had unlocked that elusive _something_ that had always been out of reach for her. Given a little more time, a little more sculpting, and Luka would finally reach it...

As for _how,_ she didn't know. But Luka pulled out her sketches anyways. Before she could hand them over to Miku, Miku stood closer to peer at it. Luka could practically feel the heat of Miku's skin, and the smell of her perfume, subtle, fruity, cute but still quite obviously expensive, drifted up to Luka's nose.

Miku's eyes widened a fraction. "These are _good,"_ she said.

"O-oh," Luka stammered. "Really?"

"Yeah. Um," Miku hesitated, "do you mind if I take one to bring back home?"

Luka stared. _Miku_ wanted to take one of _Luka's_ drawings back home with her? Was she dreaming right now? There was no way this could be happening. It was too good to be true, _way_ too good to be true. When Luka spoke, her voice was choked. "R-really?"

"Ah, but you don't have to or anything if you need it for the class," Miku began, but Luka was already talking.

"No, no, no, you can _definitely_ take one," said Luka. "Um, which would you like?"

Miku thought for a few moments as she studied the drawings. "Tough decision...I'll take this one," she pointed at one of the pages.

Luka obligingly tore it out and handed it to her. "Here."

"Thanks, uh..." Miku squinted at Luka's scrawled signature in the corner before laughing again. "Sorry, I never got your name."

"Oh, sorry. I'm Luka."

"Right," said Miku. "Luka. I'll remember that."

Luka laughed, doubting Miku's words but enjoying them all the same. Miku knew so many famous people that the thought of her actually bothering to remember Luka's name was one that was too much. Still, it was a nice thing for her to say, and Luka appreciated it. "Thanks. But my drawing is really nothing special, it's just-"

"Oh, no," Miku interrupted. "Don't say that. I don't know how to put it into words, but...I think you _got_ something of me here. Well...something the others didn't get anyways..." Miku trailed off and grinned, a small embarrassed smile. "Sorry, I must sound like an idiot right now. Anyways," she checked the time again, "I really need to get going before my manager blows my head off. It was nice meeting you, Luka!"

"Nice meeting you too," said Luka, dazed. Miku smiled, one more time, before turning and leaving with a careless wave of her arm. Luka waved back, though Miku didn't see, and when the door closed behind Miku, Luka was left alone in the classroom.

Luka exhaled. Well, she thought to herself, that was it. She had met a celebrity, and most likely she would never meet Miku again. At the thought of that, a tinge of melancholy suffused her heart like black ink dripped in water, but she tried to suppress it. There was no point in thinking too much about it. Miku was a pop idol, they lived in different worlds, and that was that.

With a sigh, Luka hefted her bag and started the walk home.

-o-o-o-

The next day, there was a different model, a man this time. He was one of those slender, elegant men who populated so many romance dramas, and Luka wished he was Miku. The pencil felt numb and dead in her hand.

"As you can see, we have a new model," the professor said. "His name is Yuma; we'll be studying the male form over the next few weeks. Start with gestures, class, and get started."

Luka did so, but drawing felt labored and mechanical now. She was still competent at it, blocking out Yuma's form well enough, but that spark, that mad rush of inspiration when she was drawing Miku, was gone. It was all gone. By the end of it Luka had turned out a page worth of desultory, sad-looking sketches, the worst ones she had drawn since she started the class.

Her professor walked by and a crease of consternation formed between his brows at the sight of Luka's drawing. "Surely you can do better than this," he admonished.

Luka wished she could. But that glimpse of that _something_ she had when she was drawing Miku had drawn away now, once more elusive and unreachable. Not even drawing from Miku's old photoshoots helped, not after Luka had the real thing.

Her drawings nowadays were, Luka had to admit it, utter shit. And it wasn't as though she was being a harsh self-critic either, because her professor had taken her aside, asked if she was feeling unwell, told her that she had talent, that she could be great if she only applied herself more, like she did that one class with Miku.

"The University cannot afford to bring in celebrities on a regular basis," he added at the end of it all, and Luka snorted inwardly. As if _any_ celebrity could inspire her the way Miku had.

"You really need to cheer up," said Lily. "Luka, look at you, you're _mooning."_

"I am not," said Luka, though her voice had no force in it.

"You are," said Lily. "You totally are. Do you want to go out to a party? You haven't been outside in ages. Seriously, I'm speaking as your concerned roommate-slash-best friend here. It'd be good for you."

Luka shook her head. "No."

Lily sighed and ran a hand through her long blonde hair. "Come on, Luka! Celebrity crushes are so middle school. You need to get out there, date someone! Or, fuck it, just get laid! Besides, isn't Miku dating that Kaito guy?"

"Those're just rumors," Luka said.

"Well, they worked together on several projects and they _do_ have chemistry, so, chances are they've at least hooked u-" Lily was interrupted by a pillow thrown at her head.

No doubt about it. Luka felt like shit. The weather turned black and cloudy as her mood, as though commiserating with her, and Luka's days gradually became gray. It was stupid, she told herself, _she_ was stupid, but she couldn't help how she felt. All she could do was try to get over it. Taking Lily's advice, Luka had a string of melancholy flings that all ended poorly, and after the third, Luka just gave up.

It was nearing the time for finals, and for drawing, that meant the final exhibition. Not that Luka had anything good to show for it, anyways - after that single day of inspiration, she had ran into a wall. She could work in the art building for hours, pull all-nighters, but it wouldn't work. Art didn't work that way. All she would churn out would be mechanical and dull, accurate and lifeless.

It was pissing rain when Luka walked out of the art building at nine. Staring up at the black sky, she cursed; she hadn't brought an umbrella with her. Well, she had her sketchpad at least, and she held it over her head, cardboard side up, as she began the walk back to her dorm. Her sneakers splashed in pools of water, soaking the ends of her pants. It was cold too, but whatever. Luka didn't care.

She was so intent of walking back home and avoiding the rain that she almost walked right past Miku without seeing her. For a moment, Luka couldn't believe it, but a look back confirmed her sight - there was _Miku,_ with an umbrella, dressed in a warm and comfortable looking peacoat, the carbon copy of the one she wore in the magazine two years ago. Luka's heart stopped.

The next thing Luka knew, she was waving at Miku and Miku glanced up. There was a pause, and Luka almost feared that Miku had completely forgotten about her, but then a smile spread on her face and she waved back.

"Hey Luka!" said Miku cheerily as she walked over to her. She glanced at the sketchpad Luka was holding over her head. "Um. Is that doing anything for you?"

"You remembered my name," said Luka, too awed to care that in fact her sketchbook was doing nothing for her and that she was soaked through. Her eyes were caught on Miku's.

Miku laughed. "Of course. I told you I would, right?"

"Why are you here?" Luka asked. "It's...modeling is over."

"Oh, I'm just here because I'll be having a concert in the city," said Miku easily, adjusting her grip on the umbrella. "I heard that your class would be having its final exhibition soon too, so I wanted to stop by and see how it was, since I modeled for it and all."

Part of Luka was flattered. The other part felt only a black dread, because, shit, Luka most certainly was _not_ doing well at all in that class. Unable to answer, she looked down.

After a silence, Miku spoke. "You're not doing so well?"

"No," Luka said. "Not really. My inspiration's gone, you know," she gestured abstractly at nothing, putting down her sketchbook in the process. It wasn't doing anything to cover her anyways, and her hair was already soaked.

"Ah," Miku said, and something in that noise stirred Luka to speak more.

"I just don't know what I want to do," she said. "I'm taking all these classes, but I don't know. It's like...there's something there, but I can't reach it, and I don't know what it is. The only time I even came close was when I was..." Luka hesitated, then plunged on, "when I was drawing you."

Silence. The rain poured even harder, heavy drops hitting Luka's head, water sluicing down her coat. The only sound was the patter of rain on Miku's umbrella. Miku's expression was half-hidden by her bangs and difficult to read, and Luka didn't try. She didn't want to know what she would find in Miku's face at that confession, which now seemed intrusively stalkerish.

Then, Luka broke it. "Would you mind if...if you, uh, let me draw you? My dorm is really close, I'll make you tea, anything you want," Luka couldn't stop talking, her words fast and nervous, and Miku was staring at her again. "I won't do anything...weird, I just want to draw you. I need something good for the exhibition, I haven't been doing well at all and I can't just show my old gesture drawings." She forced a laugh. "I know you're a big pop star though, so if you can't...if there are contracts against this kind of thing...then it's fine, forget about it. I just..." The steam ran out. Luka deflated. "I just wanted to ask."

Each plop of raindrop was torturous, an eternity of waiting. Miku chewed her lip in a way that Luka found incredibly distracting before answering. "Sure," she said at last. "Why not?"

-o-o-o-

Once inside, Luka shucked off her coat and took Miku's, hanging them on the hook over the door, turning up the heat. Miku stood there, curiously looking around the dorm. It all felt so unreal - Hatsune Miku, famous pop star, standing there in _Luka's_ dorm room of all places - but Luka tried not to think too much about it. If she did, she would probably freak out, which was bad.

At least her dorm was clean, Luka thought. Lily wasn't the best when it came to keeping her space clean, but she was out now, her exams having finished. Not that Lily being out would have affected anything, Luka told herself quickly. Miku was untouchable. She wasn't just _anybody._ Still, a part of Luka was glad for the privacy; if Lily was here, she would probably hog all of Miku's attention anyways, she was just like that, and where would that leave Luka?

"What kind of tea do you like?" asked Luka as she put on the kettle, and a thought occurred to her. "Uh...how much do you charge for, um, modeling-"

"Don't worry about that," said Miku with a laugh. "It's free. I still have that drawing you gave me, so, a drawing for a drawing. Anyways, any kind of tea is fine."

Luka chewed her lip and decided to just go for making green tea. She looked over. Miku was sitting on the couch now, her head half-turned to look out the window, her eyes distant and contemplative. Luka wondered what she was thinking about. Her hopes? Dreams? Maybe even something as mundane as tomorrow's lunch? Luka didn't know.

When the tea was done, Luka put it on the coffee table, clearing aside her Intro to Programming textbook, startling Miku out of her trance. That practiced, idol's smile slid back onto Miku's face as she took the cup and thanked Luka.

"So, um," said Luka as she dug around for her pencils, "what made you decide to be an idol?"

Miku shrugged, a graceful movement of the shoulders. "I wanted to see if I could do it. Back when I was young, I would watch them on TV. It was like..." Miku hesitated. "It was like they all lived in some sort of dream world. Things were perfect over there," she laughed. "I wanted to have a perfect life too."

"Is it?" asked Luka as she propped her wet sketchbook up on her lap.

"Is it what?"

"Perfect."

Miku shrugged, again, and turned to look out the window once more. For a moment, her smile dropped away and she looked lost again, but quick as a flash it was back on, a brief slip that Luka wasn't meant to see. "Nothing's perfect. It's fun, though. I have fun. When you're an idol, you _have_ to be fun. Otherwise, the audience gets bored."

"Isn't permanent fun," Luka flipped through pages, trying to find one that wasn't too wet or already drawn on, "the same as permanent boredom?"

Miku looked at Luka, surprised. "What?"

"You can't have fun all the time," said Luka, testing her pencils. "It's not...possible. Reality doesn't work that way."

"Idols don't live in reality," Miku said with a smile, and then she sprung up to her feet. There was a new restlessness to her movements now, and she talked quickly. "So how do you want me?"

"Huh?"

"Posed," said Miku. "What pose?"

"Oh." Somehow, Luka hadn't quite thought about that, and she blushed. "Just...pose however you like. Anything is fine."

"Anything is fine," Miku repeated, and she looked around for a place, a small crease between her eyebrows. "There's not much room...is it okay if I sit there?" She gestured at Lily's bed.

"Oh," said Luka, "that's my roommate's bed."

"Would she mind?"

"Um. No, no I don't think so. She went back home now, finals are over for her, so..."

Miku nodded and carefully set herself on Lily's bed, one leg crossed, the other dangling off the edge. She pulled at the ribbons in her hair and her twin tails fell, transformed into long waves of teal. "I'm ready."

Shit. Why did Luka think this was a good idea? Her heart was beating so fast her hand jittered. It felt as though it had been years since she last saw Miku, even though it had only been two months, but here she was, and Luka was drinking in the sight of her as though it was the first time. Luka took a breath to try to gather herself and she began to draw. Her pencil seemed to know where to go before she herself did, and before she knew it Luka's eyes were lingering on each individual feature of Miku; her thin shoulders, her slender waist, her legs, long and perfect.

Once Luka moved on to adding shade and highlight, contrasts and shadows, she didn't have to look up as much. Her pencil knew where to go. Before she knew it, she was already shading in the slight pout of Miku's lips. Luka's heartbeat was still fast, distractingly so, and her mouth was dry, but Luka was nothing but professional, so she tried to push away the inappropriate thoughts that were crowding her mind so fast she could hardly keep them out. It seemed as though every time she glanced up at Miku, she found something new to fixate upon, and not just in the way of trying to puzzle out how to best depict it on a page.

"Um," said Luka, in an attempt to distract herself. "What do you do in your spare time?"

"I take walks, watch movies, shop, sometimes read," said Miku. A consummate professional, she hadn't shifted position since Luka started drawing, and other than her lips, her body stayed perfectly still as she spoke.

"Oh," said Luka. She wished she had water, or something cold to drink. Instead, she took a sip from her cup of tea. When she put it back on the table, it was with an audible thunk. Rain poured from outside, slapping the window, the walls, a constant white noise. It was a little dark in the room, only half of its lights on, and the combination lent everything an intimate air that Luka was becoming more and more aware of by the second. She drew in a breath, audible in the silent room, and looked at Miku.

If Miku was feeling anything like how Luka was feeling, she gave no indication. Her face was as tranquil as the surface of a secluded pond, and it was too dark to tell if she was blushing or not. A part of Luka doubted it, though - Miku would be used to this kind of scrutiny, being an idol. Anyways, Luka shouldn't dwell on such things. It wasn't as though anything was even going to _happen._

And just like that, Luka was done. The drawing was rough, sure, there were mistakes here and there, but they were minor, easily corrected, and everything was there. It was the best thing Luka had ever drawn and she stared at it, at the Miku captured on the page. She looked simultaneously strong and fragile, stuck somewhere between real and illusion - there was a fuzziness about her, a sort of ethereal aura. An idol and a girl, untouchable but there.

"I'm done," said Luka at last.

Miku's head perked up with interest. "Can I see?"

"Sure," said Luka, and she got up and walked over to Miku, handing the sketchpad over. Miku took it and looked at it. Her eyes widened.

"Wow," said Miku, softly. "Luka, this is amazing."

"You can keep it," said Luka. "If you want."

Miku looked up at her. "Are you sure? Don't you need this for the exhibition?"

Luka smiled. "Well, sure, but it's fine. If you like it, you can have it. As a gift. As thanks for...for letting me draw you."

Miku stared at Luka for a moment, blue eyes searching through Luka's. "Why?"

Luka shrugged. "I don't know if art is what I want to do in life. If the only thing I can draw well is you, well," Luka laughed, "there's not much point."

There was more silence. The rain poured outside, a barrage against the window. Luka couldn't tear her eyes away from Miku's, her heart thumping in her chest, audible and tangible.

"Oh," said Miku. She put the sketchpad aside, portrait facing up. Her eyes moved past Luka. "It's late."

"It is?" The spell broken, Luka hurriedly turned around to look at the clock. Her eyes almost bugged out. It was midnight. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry, I didn't think it would take this long. Where are you staying? I can walk you back," she turned back towards Miku, who was still in the pose Luka drew her in. "The rain's bad, but, oh," a rush of relieved memory, "you have your umbrella. Do you want the drawing?"

The next thing Luka knew, Miku's hand, still a little chilled from the cold, was covering Luka's own. Before Luka could even begin to fathom what that meant, Miku's lips pressed against her own, impossibly soft, just a brush before she pulled back. It was the one of the chastest kisses Luka had ever had, but its effect was electric.

"O-or," said Luka, her throat not quite working properly as she stared at Miku, "you can just...sleep over."

-o-o-o-

"I'm," Miku began, her voice shaky, "I'm, um, I don't want you to think that...that I do this kind of thing-" Miku cut herself off with a short gasp when Luka gently bit her neck, "o-often," she finished.

"I don't," said Luka, even though part of her was wondering why, how, what circuitous road brought her here. Miku's fingers were clutching tight onto Luka's shoulders, almost uncomfortably so if it wasn't for the fact that Luka wasn't aware of much other than the rolling heat in her body. A thought occurred to her and she brought her head back to look at Miku properly. "Are you...is this your first time?"

Miku looked away. "If I said 'yes'," she said, "would you stop?"

Luka stared. There was a vague hint of uncertainty in Miku's eyes, the awkward way she held herself, in sharp contrast to how assured she was a few scant moments earlier when she was modeling. "I-it depends," said Luka, and she brought a hand up to cup Miku's warm cheek so that Miku was looking directly at Luka. "Are you sure? I mean," Luka hated to say the obvious, but it had to be said, "I'm not...a guy."

Miku looked vaguely offended. "I know _that!"_

"You know what I mean."

Miku shifted a little, a whole mix of emotions flowing across her face. "I don't...I don't mind. When I came here," she said, "I lied about...about just wanting to see the exhibition. I just wanted to see, um, you again."

Luka opened her mouth to say something, a whole host of questions and emotions crowding her mind, but Miku continued talking. "When you showed me that drawing, I thought...I thought you really, actually saw me, not the idol...just me, because, like I said, you...got something that others didn't have. There was just this connection there." Miku started to speak faster. "Anyways, after that, I couldn't stop thinking about you. It's stupid, I know, but I just _couldn't_. So when I found out I would be having a concert near here, I thought that this would be my chance to, um, see you again. But I didn't know where you lived, what classes you took other than art," Miku laughed, "so I just...I just wandered around until I saw you. I didn't know what would happen, but I just wanted to see you again."

"O-oh," Luka said, her mind spinning with the implications this had. If Miku felt this way, then that meant...

"I didn't know that it would get this far," said Miku, softly, "but...but it's okay. I don't know how to explain it...I probably sound really stupid." At that, Luka couldn't resist anymore. She kissed her on the lips, gently.

"Don't say that," Luka whispered as she pulled back. "If you sound stupid, I sound stupid too." She kissed Miku on the cheek, then back to her lips, and Miku seemed to accept that as her answer because she tilted her head up to meet Luka's lips. Luka ran her fingers through Miku's hair, incredibly soft, and at any moment she waited to wake up, but she didn't. It was real, _this_ was real, and if that was the case, then Luka better grab hold of this reality and never let it go. Miku's fingers, long and delicate, were whispering across the heated skin of Luka's neck, entangling themselves in her hair, and Luka could feel herself fall in deeper. She drew her mouth over to the line of Miku's jaw, kissing wherever she could reach as her hands busied themselves with shedding Miku's clothes as fast as possible. Her buttons went on for what seemed like too long before Luka got them off, revealing the slow curve of Miku's neck, pale skin stretched over collarbone, a plain black bra, the dip of her naval, her slim waist. Luka's fingers paused at the hem of Miku's skirt and Miku tensed, breath hitching, eyes going wide.

"Oh, wow," Miku mumbled. "This is really happening."

Luka couldn't help but to laugh. "Only if you want it. Do you?"

Miku bit her lip, a gesture that really only fanned the flames. "We already went over this," she muttered, petulantly.

Luka dipped her head to Miku's neck and kissed it. "I want to hear it again," she whispered into Miku's ear. "Tell me."

Miku squirmed. "Yes," she said, her breaths staccato. Luka could practically feel Miku's pulse, fast and quick. "I want it."

Luka brought her fingers up to Miku's chin and looked into her eyes. "Alright," said Luka, and she pressed her lips against Miku's again, deep and hard, as her hand quickly divested Miku of her bra, her skirt, her underwear. Luka was dimly aware that Miku still had her stockings on, but whatever. Miku gasped at the cold air, her body squirming underneath Luka's, and she pulled Luka closer to her, hands scrabbling at Luka's shirt in a frantic movement.

"Take it off," Miku managed, pulling back and frowning at Luka. "It's not fair if I'm the only one who's not wearing anything."

Luka laughed and pulled off her shirt, tossing it aside, not caring where it went. "You know, we didn't even drink our tea."

"I don't even _like_ tea," Miku retorted, "so I don't care." Her eyes were intent on Luka now; Luka could practically feel the heat of her gaze burning into her skin. Then, Miku sat up swiftly and undid Luka's bra, so fast Luka was hardly aware she did it, and the next thing Luka felt were Miku's fingers, burning against her exposed collarbone, Miku herself kissing a path down from Luka's neck to the valley between her breasts, then lower, lower, lower until she reached Luka's pants and sighed with frustration.

"I don't know why you have these on," Miku said as her fingers fumbled with Luka's zipper, clumsy in their impatience.

Luka laughed. "I was drawing you," she said.

"You don't need pants for that," said Miku, her voice as plain as if she was commenting on the weather.

Before Luka could point out how completely ridiculous that was and how in fact she didn't even know about Miku's feelings until Miku decided to surprise her with a kiss, that died when Miku practically yanked Luka's pants down to Luka's knees, entangling them. Luka kicked the jeans off onto the ground and now somehow her leg was inbetween Miku's and _shit,_ Luka could _feel_ how wet Miku was, a fact that pretty much obliterated all thought in Luka's brain.

"Oh my god," was about the only thing Luka could manage at this realization. "I thought you were a demure virgin."

"Right, I'm a _virgin,"_ Miku said, pointedly.

Luka hid a grin. "I can fix that." She moved back and put her hands on Miku's thighs, pulling them apart. She drew an experimental finger down Miku's slit, unbelievably hot, and Miku's entire body shuddered. Her thighs were trembling and Luka decided not to prolong it any longer. She kissed Miku again, swallowing her moans as she slipped her fingers inside, feeling the younger girl tremble underneath her, the contact of bare skin on skin electric. Miku's breaths were fast, unstable, her tongue tangling and twining with Luka's, one hand clenching tightly on Luka's hair, the other on Luka's back, her grip so hard it was almost painful, but Luka didn't care, she didn't care at all. Miku was so incredibly _hot_ on the inside that Luka could think of nothing but her.

Miku's fingers curled tighter on Luka's hair in warning, her body tensing. "Luka, I," Miku said, her voice thick and choked.

"Alright," Luka said between kisses, "relax. I got you." She pressed her thumb against Miku's clit, and that was it. Miku came apart, her hips bucking against Luka as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, gasping at the ceiling as Luka buried her head in Miku's neck.

When it was over, Miku propped herself up on her elbows and looked at Luka. Her hair was messy and wild, her eyes dark as she looked at Luka speculatively. Then, she smiled and placed her hands on Luka's shoulders.

"Your turn," said Miku, and she pushed Luka down on the bed.

It didn't take Luka very long to come, after that.

-o-o-o-

Luka fell back against the bed as she stared up at the ceiling, heartbeat still fast after what had just happened. Miku was sitting up now, looking surprisingly cool for someone who had just lost their virginity, and was peering at the drawing Luka did while sipping the now-cold tea. She looked over at Luka and smiled.

"I really like it," said Miku. "But I think you should keep it. Show it for the final exhibition."

Luka sucked in a breath and sat up. "Really? But..."

Miku shrugged. "You shouldn't give up. I think you can draw more than just me. You just have to, um, believe in yourself."

Luka laughed. "Really? Believe in myself?"

"I'm serious," Miku said, frowning at Luka. "I think you can do it. Besides," she put the drawing back down, along with the cup, "I want to do this again."

A bloom of hope blossomed in Luka's chest. "Really?" Then, it occurred to her. "Wait, you mean right now? It's late..."

Miku laughed. "Of course not _now,_ but later. Maybe even tomorrow, if I get the time." She laid back down on the bed, still on top of Luka, eyes half-closed. "What'll you be doing tomorrow?"

"Nothing," said Luka. "Well. Studying. But it's easy, just Intro to Programming. So I have nothing to do tomorrow."

"Ah," said Miku, and she closed her eyes. "You should come to my concert."

"It's sold out," said Luka. "It sold out in like, half an hour."

Miku giggled. "You're talking to _Hatsune Miku_, Luka, do you really think that I can't invite whoever I want? You should come. Invite your friends too."

"Alright," said Luka. She was pretty sure she had a stupid smile on her face, but she didn't care. "I'll do that. Would you model for me afterwards?"

Miku laughed. "I'll model for you any time you want." She kissed Luka's cheek, a seal, a promise. "We can do tomorrow."

With that, Luka closed her eyes and sank into sleep, peaceful and easy. Tomorrow, she thought, couldn't come fast enough.

* * *

**lol. This turned out so much longer than what I wanted it to be XDDDD uhhh hope that's alright with you guys! It was just going to be a lemon, but then I added all this other...stuff DX Hope that's alright. Wrote this because Strange Duet, despite its M rating, is taking forever to get to anything actually M-related! Sorry DX I hope you guys enjoyed this story, at least!**


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